


No Less a Man

by r_grayjoy



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: daily_deviant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-07
Updated: 2010-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-12 11:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r_grayjoy/pseuds/r_grayjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you honestly <i>need</i> a summary?  You'll either read it out of sheer curiosity, or run away in terror!  Oh, fine…  Seventeen-year-old Sirius is having a crisis; he's fortunate an understanding friend is on hand to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Less a Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for daily_deviant in February 2007. When Sirius/Hagrid came up as the random, alternate pairing that month, I took it as a personal challenge...

  
**No Less a Man**   


As Sirius raised the half-empty bottle to his lips, the liquid within sloshed over one cheek and trickled into his hair. After taking a large swallow, he pulled the bottle away, and more of the contents spilled over his chin. Drinking while laying on the ground was difficult, he decided.

Despite the fact that he seemed to be getting more of the firewhiskey on his face than in his mouth, Sirius had no particular desire to sit up. If he did that, it might lead to standing, and then walking, and ultimately returning to his dormitory, which was precisely what he was trying to avoid. No, he was quite fine here on the grass by the lake, thank you very much. Sirius looked up at the swirling stars (should stars swirl? He couldn't remember) and heaved a sigh. Half the bottle of potent liquor was gone, but he was no closer to finding a solution to his problem, or to forgetting about it.

Blessed with the good looks that typically went along with the Black family name, Sirius had been the object of more than his fair share of schoolgirl crushes during his years at Hogwarts. He had always been vaguely flattered by the attention, but hadn't been particularly interested in pursuing any of the silly, tittering bits of fluff. If he preferred making mischief with his best mates to sneaking off for a soggy, clandestine snog, well, there was nothing wrong with that.

Except that there was.

Lately he had begun to notice things that he shouldn't, such as how handsome James looked with his hair mussed and his face flushed as he came off the Quidditch pitch, or how snugly Remus' robes hugged the curve of his arse when he leaned over the work table in Potions class. It only required one or two lurid dreams about nude and glistening masculine forms for Sirius to realize what was wrong. That in and of itself was bad enough, but he had no idea how he could possibly tell his friends. His _male_ friends, with whom he had shared a dormitory for six plus years. He could only imagine how they would react once they found out, which they were bound to do if he didn't manage to stop producing inexplicable and inappropriate erections in the showers.

Lifting the firewhiskey bottle into the air -- and spilling more on himself in the process -- Sirius announced, "Here's to Sirius bloody Black: reluctant scion of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, most attractive and sought-after young man in his year, late bloomer, and confirmed poof." As if in response, a light glinted off the upraised bottle. Turning his head, Sirius spotted a small glow bobbing through the air and moving in his general direction. Sirius blinked a few times and attempted to focus, but the glimmer didn't disappear. "Huh," he said, bemused.

"Who's that there?" a resonating voice called out, and Sirius could now see that the light was an old-fashioned lantern.

"Do you know, are stars s'posed to swirl?" Sirius asked the disembodied voice randomly.

"Sirius? Is that you? What're yeh doin' out here at this time o' night?"

Abruptly recognizing the voice, Sirius waved the liquor bottle in greeting. "Heeeeeeey, Hagrid!" he said as he squinted into the warm glow of the lantern in an attempt to make out the large groundskeeper in the darkness.

"Ah," said Hagrid, his eyes landing on the swaying bottle, "that'd be explainin' a few things, then."

"I'm contem-- contempl-- I'm thinking about my sad lot in life," Sirius attempted to clarify.

"Yer out here by yerself? Where's James? An' Remus, an' little Peter?" Hagrid glanced around as though he expected to see the remaining Marauders materialize out of the bushes.

"We're not attached at the waist, y'know!" Sirius replied defensively, then immediately felt himself grow warm at his own unintended double entendre.

"O' course yer not," Hagrid said, apparently not finding anything peculiar about Sirius' remark. "It's jus' that yer usually gettin' in ter trouble as a group, not by yerselves, is all."

Sirius lowered the bottle and sighed. "Not this time. They're not a part of this."

Seeming to come to some sort of conclusion, Hagrid nodded once. "Right. Nothin' fer it, I reckon. Can' leave yeh out here; Dumbledore'd have me hide. An' I can' send yeh back to the castle in this state. Come on, then." With that, the large man reached down with one strong hand and pulled Sirius to his feet. The world spun slightly before righting itself. Sirius giggled at that, then promptly wondered if giggling made him a bit poncy.

Not paying much attention to their course, Sirius allowed himself to be led across the darkened grounds. Occasionally Hagrid placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder to help steady him when he began to stumble, and their journey was made without incident. When they came to a stop at last, Sirius blinked dumbly, surprised to find himself at the door to Hagrid's hut rather than the entrance hall of the castle.

At Hagrid's invitation Sirius stepped inside, grateful that Hagrid had not escorted him back to his common room. The interior of the familiar house was dimly lit by a warm, flickering light that originated from the open hearth in the corner. Moving farther into the room, it only took two attempts for Sirius to settle himself into one of the enormous chairs at Hagrid's equally enormous table. Once situated, he examined his surroundings and immediately noticed the thick tankard on the table and the scent of cider in the air. It seemed the Sirius had not been the only one at Hogwarts to have a bit to drink this evening, he thought.

Silently he watched as Hagrid poured tea from a copper kettle into two oversized cups, then offered one up to Sirius. It was only then that Sirius realized that the bottle of firewhiskey had disappeared somewhere along the way, and he couldn't recall whether Hagrid had taken it from him or whether he had dropped it by the lake. In any case, he accepted the teacup as a tolerable substitute and wrapped his fingers around it, enjoying the warmth and the solid feel of the vessel in his hands.

Turning a chair to face Sirius and taking a seat, Hagrid asked, "Well what's botherin' yeh then?" When Sirius suddenly appeared quite interested in his tea, Hagrid pressed on, "Did yeh have some kind o' fight with the others?"

Sirius barked a dry, humorless laugh. "Not yet. But I might if they find out…" Sirius trailed off with a sigh. As he looked back up at Hagrid's artless expression, he suddenly wondered whether he might actually be able to talk to Hagrid about his dilemma. Hagrid had always been supportive of Sirius, and if nothing else, perhaps his reaction could serve as a gauge as to how James and the others would take the news.

Suddenly feeling entirely too sober, Sirius mustered up all the Gryffindor courage he could manage and said wryly, "It seems that I'm even more deviant than I always thought. I've recently come to the realization that, erm… I like males. In the more-than-just-friendly sense of the word."

"Oh, well, is that all?" Hagrid exclaimed. "Yeh had me thinkin' somethin' righ' horrible had happened!"

"But that _is_ right horrible!" Sirius retorted.

"Says who?" Hagrid asked sternly, sounding as if he'd merrily thump anyone who had given Sirius such an idea.

Sirius shrugged, attempting to appear more nonchalant than he felt. "No one. Yet. James and the others don't know."

"Theren't anythin' wrong with havin' a pref'rence fer yer own kind, if yeh get me meanin'. If tha's jus' the way yeh are, then yeh've got nothing' ter be ashamed of."

Hagrid spoke the words firmly, as though he had very strong opinions on the subject, and Sirius began to have a certain suspicion. "You sound as though you have some personal experience with that," he ventured.

It was difficult to tell on account of Hagrid's normally ruddy countenance, but Sirius thought he saw Hagrid flush slightly. "It jus' so happens that I migh' be a bit int'rested in men. Oh, don' get me wrong," he amended hastily, "I like women. Quite a lot, as a matter o' fact. I suppose yeh could say I'm a 'best o' both worlds' sort."

Sirius' eyebrows shot up in surprise. He never would have guessed that Hagrid, of all people, would be attracted to men, being robust and masculine as he was. If truth be told, Sirius hadn't thought of Hagrid as a sexual being at all before, which seemed rather naïve in retrospect. Now he saw his old friend in a new light.

Leaning forward in his seat, Sirius fixed Hagrid with an intent gaze. "What's it like?" he asked. "What's it like to snog a bloke? How's it different from snogging a girl?"

"Well, er," Hagrid began, seeming to consider the question a moment, "it's a bit rougher, I reckon. Girls're soft an' round an' curvy, and blokes're… well, they're soft too, but in a diff'rent sort o' way. The skin's soft, but there's usually more hair when yeh run yer hands over 'em, and yeh can feel hard muscles movin' underneath."

Hagrid seemed to warm to the topic, gaining confidence as he went on, and Sirius sat riveted. "Go on," he breathed.

"Sometimes men are more demandin', an' harder like, an' yeh don' have ter worry abou' 'em breakin'. There's summat more _primitive_ abou' bein' with a bloke. An' I think men jus' know what other men like, so there's less talkin' an' explainin' involved, an' more jus' doin' an' _feelin'_."

The other man stroked his fingers over his teacup absently as he spoke, and Sirius followed the motion with his eyes. His mouth fell open slightly as he listened to Hagrid's bass tones, watched those stout fingers slide over the surface of the cup, imagined himself touching a lean, muscular body in a similar fashion. The intensity of the moment made Sirius grow achingly hard beneath his robes, and his whole essence thrummed with need. Perhaps it was the remnants of the firewhiskey giving him courage, but when Hagrid finished his account, Sirius said roughly, " _Show me_."

Tea sloshed over the edge of Hagrid's cup as he sat bolt upright, as though Sirius' request had startled him. "What? No, I couldn'… Yer a student, an' it'd be wrong o' me…"

"Please, Hagrid," Sirius persisted. "My first experience should be with a friend, someone who can show me what it's supposed to be like, and who won't judge me. Right? Show me."

Unless Sirius was very much mistaken, Hagrid was turned on by the notion, if the sizeable bulge in the front of his trousers was any indication. Hagrid seemed to carry on an internal argument with himself briefly before he sat his cup on the table and said, "Close yer eyes."

Immediately Sirius did as Hagrid instructed, placing his trust in his old friend. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest, hear the crackling of the fire as he waited, and then fingers brushed across his forehead, sweeping his long hair back. Hagrid's touch was surprisingly gentle as he ran his fingertips lightly over Sirius' cheek, chin, neck. Sirius could feel the calloused pads of Hagrid's hand, and a scent rose up from his palm that was earthy and smoky and distinctly male. Gasping, he leaned into the touch. " _More_."

"Yer sure?" Hagrid whispered.

Sirius didn't think he'd been more sure of anything in his life. "Yes."

Keeping his eyes closed, Sirius could sense Hagrid getting up from his seat and moving around behind him. A long moment stretched out, then Hagrid's deep, hoarse voice issued from close to Sirius' ear. "Open yer robes."

There was no hesitation on Sirius' part as he fumbled open the ties and buttons of his clothing, exposing his torso fully. An instant later Hagrid's hands were on him, wandering over his chest and stomach, wringing small sounds from him with their gentle persistence. Soon Sirius began to squirm in the chair, wishing those brilliant hands would just move a bit _lower_ , damn it! Unable to resist any longer, Sirius reached into his pants and withdrew his neglected cock, hoping desperately that Hagrid would take the hint.

An instant later, Hagrid's hand, warm and slick with some substance that smelled faintly of spice, closed over Sirius' cock, and Sirius groaned low in his throat.

"How's that? Not too rough?" Hagrid asked as he began to stroke slowly.

"P-perfect," Sirius managed. The hand was easily twice the size of his own and neatly engulfed his entire length. As Hagrid slid oiled fingers up and down his shaft in a steady rhythm, Sirius thought dizzily, _Shagging must feel a little like this_. Gripping the edges of the wooden chair, he rocked his hips up in time, pressing into Hagrid's sure grip.

This, _this_ was what it should be like, Sirius decided; all masculine heat and free from awkwardness or shame. An image rushed into his mind then, of himself bending Remus over a desk in an abandoned classroom. He felt his desire spike, and he thrust harder into Hagrid's huge fist.

As Hagrid's hand sped up, choked groans welled up from Sirius' chest, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He held the chair in a white-knuckled grip, grunting loudly through clenched teeth, and arched up off the wooden surface, staining. His climax tore through him, and Sirius came so hard that his spunk splattered the floor, his chest, his _chin_ , for Merlin's sake. Through it all Hagrid continued to touch Sirius, his steady hands soothing and grounding him. As Sirius came down, his friend murmured into his ear, "I got yeh, I got yeh."

Feeling light and content, Sirius relaxed as his pulse slowed. After a long silence, the voice near his ear asked nervously, "A'right, Sirius?"

Allowing his head to drop back against the large body behind him, Sirius breathed, " _Thank you_."

Late that night, after Hagrid had seen him back to the castle with a legitimate-sounding excuse for having been out late, Sirius lay in bed and thought about everything that had happened. Thanks to Hagrid's support, he found that he no longer felt confused and ashamed of his particular leanings. He thought that he might even be able to tell James and Remus without wanting to hex himself insensible on the spot. He could only hope that they would accept him as he was, but if they didn't… well, that just showed their own immaturity and prejudice, didn't it? He was still Sirius Black, still the same person he had always been, except that now he understood why he had never been especially interested in girls. And now, thanks to Hagrid, he also understood that preferring men made him no less a man himself.


End file.
